The Name
by steves-a-punk
Summary: Bucky, already converted to the Winter Soldier, is interrogated at a Hydra facility. He begins to remember pieces of the war, and his best friend-Steve-from before he became "The Asset". (This is my first fanfic I've published, I'd love some reviews, even if they're negative. Thanks for reading!)


The guard ran his gloved hand down the length of the lash before dealing another blow. The prisoner remained as he had throughout the whole of his tourture: silent. His breathing was heavy and labored, his body smeared with blood, but his lips uttered not a sound. "Speak, man!" shouted the guard with his next strike. He moved closer to his the suffering man's ear, quieting his words to a whisper. "I can see you breaking," he said, taunting. "You're weak, just like all of them. You never lived up to standards you were supposed to. You're a failure. All because of one single mission? You break?" The prisoner was as quiet as ever, and gave no reply but his blank stare, looking more dead than alive. "So you refuse to betray your secrets," scoffed the guard. "I'm not asking for secrets. All I need is a name." He straightened to his full height, and stepped slowly around the chair, always watching its occupant. "I'm sure you understand how he works." The guard knew his victim would recognize the implication of the man in charge. "My employer isn't interested in simply throwing out his sources. You won't see the end of this until you give him exactly what he's asking for." Making his way to the table, he set down the whip and reached for the next item: a button…leading to the wiring of the chair in the next room. The prisoner's expression changed from lifelessness to terror. _This. No._ This is what got him here. This was what had kept him from knowing what he needed to know. The memories were only pieces, shattered, along with whatever life he had know before this…hell. He couldn't go further into the past. He almost lost his demeanor, but when his torturer saw his face, the thoughts were discovered, and the sentry smiled in satisfaction. "I see we have a winner." Preparing to move the victim into the dreaded chamber, the man signaled for his allies, certain he would succeed with this threat. After so long working at the same task, he was prepared for a victory. The prisoner's breathing quickened in panic. He tried to fight it, but was exhausted by hours of pain and fear. He knew if he could only remember, he could fight. He could save himself from whatever, whoever was hunting him. The guard picked up the keys, the final lead to that room. The prisoner's scrambled mind raced around him, chaotic and painful. _You can't keep me here. I don't know any information! But…I have to._ He had to know something, anything. His thoughts seemed about to consume him with their complexities. He had to escape. It was the only way to find the rest of small piece of truth he recalled from the mission. One of those pieces…the name. That was all they wanted. He grasped at the shreds of what he knew. The seconds dragged by, but then.. he found it. A name. _The name_ …. For the first time, he broke the silence with his voice, mumbling through gritted teeth. "Barnes." The guard looked at him, arrogantly. Glaring at his victim, he shook his head, laughing to himself that his victim could be foolish enough to think he could escape with mindless talk. He set down the keys before approaching. "What was that, soldier?" he mocked. His courage rising, the prisoner ripped one of the attachments off his right arm, and took in one more shaky breath before he spoke again, slowly. "My name is James Buchanan Barnes." His knuckles were white against the arm of the chair, and the guard's expression melted from arrogance to panic as he realized what was happening. _What have I done?_ Something wasn't right. _No_ , he thought. _The name they want. It's not mine. It's…his_. He rose out of the chair, breaking the bonds that held him down. "Where is he?!" he screamed. "What did you do to him?!" His former questioner was slammed against a wall by a hand of scuffed silver metal. "Tell me where he is." The attacker's grip tightened, his eyes filling with confusion within a face hardened by violent fury. _Who am I looking for? Who did they hurt when they made me into this…this…monster?_ The man clawed at him, lamely attempting an escape whilst his colleagues broke into the cell. They freed him from the hands of the rampant captive, who was restrained by their efforts after a short struggle. "He's been out of stasis too long. He remembers." _Remembers…what? What do I know?_ "Wipe him. Start over." The man they spoke of was wordless, still struggling half-heartedly against his restrainers, but his mind was beginning to return to him. An expression of pain clouded his face at their statements. _I know. I know something. That man…_ The memories came pouring back, blurred by the pain and the years that had passed. _My name. No. His name. The hero._ He struggled to remember. His captors had cuffed him, dragged him into another room. _He tried to save me. He was…my friend_. All at once, it came to him. The friend he had lost. The man these people wanted. "Steve." It was barely a whisper, but this utterance was enough to earn him a backhanded strike from the man - commander - standing in front of him. "Speak up, soldier. What was that?" He turned, staring. "A name?" His victim remained silent. "Your work has been a gift to humanity." The man spoke with conviction, attempting to reel back the asset of his creation, but to no avail. the prisoner was somehow back in tune with what was happening. _No!_ "No. I…I know…" The commander laughed maliciously. "You don't know! You'll never know…because everything you knew is gone. You lost it. Everything. And now…you work for me." The victim shrank at his words, blinking profusely as he tried to process all the thoughts going through his mind. _Feeling. I'm feeling again. And…Steve?_ As the men around him seized his arms, the asset's eyes darkened to a look of defiance. They shoved him back into the chair, and he knew what was about to happen. _They're going to take everything…again. There is no escape. I'm not the person I was. Not anymore. I'm only…a weapon_. His courageous attempts and determined mindset shattered at the thought, and he allowed himself to be pushed back and strapped down, to forget. _I am…nothing. There's no one to save me here…and I can't save even myself. I can never go back_. The knowledge of what was about to happen tormented his mind as the handlers switched on the machine. The fear set in, terror overtaking his being before he could think to suppress the screams. Pain gripped his body as his mind struggled to hold on, but the world he had begun to glimpse was dissolving. He focused on the name. If he could only retain that one thing… the light was all but gone. His mind was slipping away, and he kept repeating it despite his own uncontrollable shrieking. The one thing that has given him hope. _Steve_ …


End file.
